


Black Suits and Book Shops

by FromAnonymousToZ



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Just to be clear the misunderstanding isnt between crowley and aziraphale, M/M, Misunderstandings, Personification, Poor suited guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22337680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FromAnonymousToZ/pseuds/FromAnonymousToZ
Summary: When the man in the dark suit pulled up outside the bookshop it seemed like the very street was speaking to him, warning him.Don’t go inside. The cobbles beneath his feet whispered, shifting beneath his boots trying to tempt him away.You wont come out the same. The shop seemed to breath.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 84





	Black Suits and Book Shops

When the man in the dark suit pulled up outside the bookshop it seemed like the very street was speaking to him, warning him. 

_Don’t go inside._ The cobbles beneath his feet whispered, shifting beneath his boots trying to tempt him away. 

_You wont come out the same._ The shop seemed to breath.

The dark Bentley out front of the shop gleamed in the sun and despite being dead on it’s wheels it’s sides seem to tremble like the flanks of a war horse dressed in dark metal armor, like a great steed it’s cold headlights pierce his soul. The letter opener sitting on the dash glints copper and seems to blaze in the noon day sun like a sword trying and failing rather badly to hide.

 _I wouldn't go in there if I were you._ The Bentley rumbles.

 _Listen to us, you wont like it in there._ The letter opener gleams.

“What are you?” the man breaths out. 

_Merely a sword and a steed, I think the question is who are you? That you think you can go in and come out the same._ The Bentley speaks for both of them.

“I’m-” The man begins to speak but the street has fallen silent and only the still silent walls and a parked Bentley remain. He shakes his head feeling rather foolish for talking to a Bentley, even if it was a rather nice Bentley. 

He shakes his head as if to clear it of the niggling voices tugging on the corner of his mind. 

He pushes open the door to the shop and the little bell dings as if to say

_You shouldn't have done that._

He shudders and takes a few steps into the book shop through looming shelves which leer down at him with a hundred i-s. He wanders for what feels like an eternity until he finds a rather small looking plant tucked on one of the shelves. He stoops to get a better look at it.

The plant is immaculate, lovely green waxy leaves despite the dimness of the shop.

 _You shouldn’t be here._ The plant trembles. _You should leave while you still can._

He’s about to open his mouth and ask why when a voice, a real voice cuts through the air behind him.

“Can I help you?” He jumps. He whirls and finds a stylish looking man in a leather jacket peering at him through reflective black sunglasses. The voice seems to hiss and the man’s face is contorted into a sneer, his teeth sharp and unfriendly looking. Not much of the man looked friendly if the suit wearer was to be honest though. 

_I’m not a patient man._ Said his tapping fingers.

“Ah yes.” He steels himself. “Are you the owner of this shop?” The man snarls, a true snarl and his tongue flickers past his lips in a hiss.

 _I have no time for this foolishness._ Said the set of his shoulders.

“Do I look like I own a book shop?” The man snaps and the suit wearing man must admit he has a point.

 _You should turn around and leave this instant._ Says the gleam of his glasses.

“Do you know where I could find the owner.” The suit wearing man asks timidly and the man’s scowl seems to deepen if that's even possible. 

_You should leave while I allow such mercies._ Says the sharpness of his teeth.

“He’ll be back in an hour.” Says the man.

“I see, I’ll wait here then.”

 _You should have left when I gave you the chance._ Says his shrug.

“Do what you want.” The man snarled before muttering something the suit wearing man was pretty sure he should be grateful not to have heard. 

_You’ve made the master very angry._ The little plant quakes. 

_You’ve made a grave mistake._ A slightly larger pot of ivy pipes up and the man shakes his head. He turns to the shelf and takes a book and flips through it idly hoping to distract himself from the voices the book sighs in his hands. 

_I know your kind._ The book whispers.

“Do you?” He murmurs back.

 _Oh yes,_ The book titters _The men in the dark suits come in and they pitter about the shop. They rub their grubby hands all over our pages and they poke around where they’re not meant to be. They make their small talk and then the master sends them right back out changed. You can see it in their eyes._

“The man in the leather coat and the snake skin boots?”

_No, not him._

“But the plant called him the master.” The book sniffs disdainfully.

_He might be the master to the plants, but he is no master of mine._

“There are two masters?”

 _Yes! Yes!_ A copy of Ray Bradbury’s Dark Carnival a few shelves up yelps. _The master of the sword and the master of the steed._

 _The master of the garden and the master of the books._ A tiny potted fern pitches in it’s opinion.

 _The serpent and the principality._ The shop seems to sigh around them.

“And they, err, the master of the books sends men like me out forever changed?”

 _Yes_ The book shop rises in a chorus all at once. 

_Oh the things I have seen_ A book on a nearby shelf breaths _Eyes, blazing blue and hundreds of them, wings and teeth._

 _I have seen the rise and fall of empires, I have watched the greatest men spill their blood like ink over my pages._ A first edition copy of Dante’s Inferno hisses _And I have seen hotter fires blaze in the eyes of the master than in all of my pages._

 _Nothing compares to the wrath of the master._ The plants quiver.

_He yells and screams but it is when he is quiet and grips your pot that you must learn the meaning of fear._

“I don't have a pot.” The man starts to say when he hears something behind him. He whirls and finds a snake.

It’s large, larger than anything local to Soho, he’s sure. It’s tongue flickers lazily in the air and it’s eyes blaze gold. It does not speak as the plants and the books and the Bentley and the blade speak. 

Oh but it’s eyes. 

It’s eyes speak measures.

They speak of an apple.

They speak of 6,000 years.

They speak of angels and demons,

They tell of a boy who was almost human and not quite something else,

They tell of a boy who chose humanity over not-humanity,

And they blaze with something like love, if love had 6,000 years to fester.

The bell dings and the serpent’s head turns to face the found and all the man can think is praise that he’s no longer alone with the books and the plants, the man and the snake. 

The man who rounds the corner is smiling but something about him falters when he catches sight of the suit wearing man.

His smile becomes something strained as his eyes roam over the man’s suit. His eyes blaze and they speak tongues that the man isn't sure he wants to know.

They speak of a man and a woman,

They speak of 6,000 years

They speak of an ark in the desert and a bottle of wine at the Ritz

They speak of a boy who was almost something nameless but preferred humanity

They speak of an almost death of this world

And they blaze with something a bit like love, if love had 6,000 years to age like a fine wine.

 _You should have left._ The shop seems to say, pressing in, not maliciously but at the whims of it’s master.

 _Leave now, you may have a chance._ The pot of Ivy says by his ear.

“May I help you.” The blonde man’s voice is clipped and the books seem to quiver around him, pages rattling in fear.

 _Here it comes._ They seemed to chant with a leering anticipation.

 _Run while you still can._ The plants try to coax him with a coil of ivy around his fingers. 

“HelloI’mheretoreportyourmarriagelicencewassuccessfullyapproved- _I’monlyherebecausetheletterbouncedthreetimesI’llbeoffnow!”_ As he spoke his words rapidly sped up until he was finally able to choke out the last word, quickly nodding to both the man and the snake, though he didn't know quite why he felt the need to acknowledge the snake and then he proceeded to race from the bookshop.

He heard something behind him, it almost sounded like laughter. 

He took a single moment to freeze, turn around and knock the Bentley rather solidly on the door causing the car to wheeze out more laughter, before the man scuttled back into his car and floored the gas.

 _Come again soon!_ The shop seems to call cheerfully after him and he shakes his head. 

No he doesn't think he will.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Black Suits and Book Shops](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23140633) by [Djapchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djapchan/pseuds/Djapchan)




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